House of Mages: Waltz of Flight
by Diaphanous
Summary: The ending is creeping ever closer as war looms on the horizon between Archadia and Rozarria. Harry grows more and more tense with each misadventure in this ragtag group of individuals. The tug and pull of desires adds fuel to the fire...


**House of Mages:**** Waltz of Flight**

_AN:_ Third one-shot in my House of Mages series! Read **HoS**: _The First Step of a Thousand Miles_ and **HoS**: _Fools of Fortune_ first.

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Never have, never will. :iz sad:

_WARNINGS_: Not HBP/DH compliant, definitely EWE (Epilogue? What epilogue?), During Game (AU in places obviously), gratuitous timeline-skipping, language, violence, blood, angst, het, _**smutty and slash allusions**__, __**soloM/soloF, discussions of**__**threesome/moresome?**_ etc. Also, this had no discernable plot other than the fact that Harry's gone and done it again. Thrice-damned Potter luck right there.

_**00000**_

PART ONE: _Sacred Geometry_

The rhythm of the drums pounded through the night air, vibrating through the Garif Village of Jahara. Harry Potter, known as Hadrian on Ivalice, stood on the banks of the river. His feet were bare and his toes curled into the still warm sand of the banks. A gentle breeze ruffled his simple shirt and caressed his golden, pale skin. His black hair swayed. Fireflies lazily flew through the air, flashing signals in seemingly random patterns. The stars and the full moon served as a cold counterpoint to the glowing insects. The wizard held out his hand and softly touched one. He smiled as it flew away.

"Hadrian?" Penelo stepped into his line of sight. Her pale blonde hair turned white beneath the moonlight. "What are you doing out here all by yourself?"

Viridian eyes, the same shade as a Poison spell, regarded her calmly. "I don't feel like being sociable," he replied in his smooth baritone voice. He turned away to concentrate his gaze on the dark water of the river. "Trying to find me?"

"Not really," the girl said. She toed off her boots and went to sit by Harry's feet. The bazaar dancing girl curled up in a ball, wrapping her slender arms around her shins. She smiled up at him and then looked out across the water as well. "I'm not feeling sociable either." She didn't see him glance down but she did hear his grunt, taking it as permission to continue. "I just… I'm worried about Vaan. I don't think he really knows why he wants to follow Ashe."

"Yes, he is a clueless idiot," Harry drawled. A slow smirk crept across his face. "I used to be like that."

"What happened to you, then?"

Harry looked down at her, gauging her expression. She looked so serious that he couldn't help but respond in kind, ignoring the rudeness of the question. "War happened," he replied. "Just like war is going to happen to him."

"But war already happened to him… to both of us."

"Ah, no, the aftermath happened to you," the wizard corrected. "You weren't fighting, killing. This time is different, Penelo. You and Vaan; the two of you are caught in the middle of this mad quest. Men will die upon your blades. Dealing death changes a person. That is war; the spilling of guts across the dirt. The metallic scent of blood will fill your nose to the point where you believe that you'll smell it for the rest of your life. The screams of the dying will echo in your ears. And the nightmares, little Penelo. Dear Merlin, the nightmares don't end. It's like an endless dance to a song that no-one wants to hear."

Penelo sniffled, struggling vainly against tears. "Do you… really think it'll come to that, Hadrian?" she asked in a trembling voice. She hugged her knees tighter to her body. The blonde didn't even blink when the man finally sat down next to her. A comforting arm draped itself across her thin, shaking shoulders. Penelo started to hiccup and cry at the same time. "I'm scared, so scared." She buried her face against the knobs of her knees.

Harry sighed, feeling horrible over the fact that he had made her cry. "Told you I'm not sociable right now," he muttered into her scalp as he pulled her close in an effort to comfort her. "Hush, child. Do you really think I would let harm come to you?"

"But!"

"I'm in too deep. So might as well protect you along the way. Silly girl."

"I'm still scared."

"That's okay, Penny. That's okay."

000

Fran was holding a blanket in her hands when she finally came across her partner. The two exchanged a telling glance and the Viera looked down upon the hume girl curled up against Harry's side. She saw the tear-tracks on the young one's face in the moonlight. "Why did she weep, my Harry?" she whispered as she settled down against the wizard's other side. Fran threw the blanket across their shoulders, waiting patiently as Harry tucked the girl further against him under the blanket. The trio made for a strange sight.

"I might have been a little… graphic about the consequences of killing people in war," Harry said softly in return. "Poor love, scared witless. And I think everything just hit her at once, especially the consequences of the Princess' quest for vengeance. And power." He spat out the last word, even in a whisper. "Power is a dangerous thing. I fear it'll go to that royal head of hers, mark my words."

"As you say," Fran murmured. "Balthier, I believe, thinks the same."

"Hmm…" His eyes stared at the Viera for a moment. "Are you ready for tomorrow, Fran?"

"You speak of the Wood," she stated.

"I've got a bad feeling, love."

"As do I."

000

Harry shifted the still unconscious Mjrn from his arms to his back, the young Viera nearly weightless. Fran helped to arrange her arms over his shoulders as he supported the back of her thighs with his hands. The wizard hunched over a little bit for balance. He still, however, had the strangest urge to prop her on his hip like a child instead. Never mind the fact that she was too old to be carried like a five-year-old. Riding on his back would suffice instead. Harry was tired, though, from the fight with Tiamat. He wasn't as wounded as Basch, who had been bandaged up by a determined Penelo. But he had cast a multitude of strong magicks at the damned wyrm. His MP was seriously low and even his wizard core felt depleted.

But Eruyt Village was their destination and Golmore Jungle was an unforgiving mistress. They had to hurry through the Wood with Fran leading the way. Harry was not looking forward to another confrontation with Jote, Fran's elder sister. And he had a feeling Mjrn wasn't going to let Fran go without some sort of argument. The wizard grunted at the thought. The last thing he wanted was for the young Viera to follow them and abandon the Wood. It may have worked out for his beloved but it was not guaranteed for Mjrn.

"Gil for your thoughts?" Balthier asked in a low voice from beside the brunet. From the lead, Fran listened as her mate and her pirate leader conversed.

"They're more expensive than that," Harry replied.

"Oh? Now you've piqued my curiosity. Come, come, you know I'll pay."

"A favor, then?"

"Of course, within reason."

Harry hummed a little. He eyed Ashe and Penelo, who were talking in low voices as well as they walked between him and Fran. Behind the wizard and Balthier strode Vaan and Basch, guarding the rear of their entourage. The ex-knight captain had a slight limp while the thief seemed overly bruised and jittery. The monsters, for the most part, stayed away from their path. He spoke quickly and quietly. "I fear that our little rabbit is going to try and convince Fran that she wants to leave the Wood." Harry readjusted the Viera draped across his back a little. She didn't even move, nor did her breathing pattern changed in even the minutest way. Good, she was still unconscious. "It's not a good idea, considering the state of the world right now, if Mjrn was to leave."

"You have a point," Balthier murmured. "But we have no say in her decisions."

"Ah, but Fran does," Harry said just as Fran summoned up the path to Eruyt Village. "Watch and see, my friend. She's about to pull the 'I know better because I've been out there' card."

"The same old song and dance with one's younger siblings, I suppose."

"Quite."

000

PART TWO: _Movement is Poetry_

The bustle of the city was disconcerting after so much time in the wilds or in a village in the Jagd south of Dalmasca. Shouts echoed out, vendors calling to customers in the bazaar. Harry surveyed the crowds from a balcony of the inn in Rabanastre that overlooked the Muthruu Bazaar. The wizard was only wearing a pair of sleeping pants. He would enjoy the downtime before their wayward, ragtag group headed off for Nalbina and then onward all the way to the city of Archades.

Harry was getting sick of walking everywhere.

"Fran, you should be sleeping," Harry said from beyond the open balcony doors. He looked over his shoulder at the nude Viera. Her silvery hair was down and a little messy. "Unless you want another round?" The brunet noted that she wasn't even wearing her sleeping balancers but she still stood on her clawed tiptoes without them.

"I believe that we will not get an opportunity to indulge for a long time after we leave again," Fran answered. She beckoned him to leave the balcony. "Take me again, my Harry."

"Of course." Harry walked back into the room, closing the doors behind him. He took off his sleeping pants as he stalked his Viera back to the bed. "Shall I bend you over, my sweeting? Take you hard and fast. Slow and soft? Hmm, so many possibilities."

"I wish to ride you."

A lustful glint entered those bright green eyes. "Ride me, then, sweet temptress," Harry purred. He laughed when Fran pushed him onto the bed.

000

Balthier listened through the thin walls as his pirating partners moaned, their bed squeaking obscenely with their love-making. He resisted the urge to touch himself through his trousers. Instead the blond man panted as the sounds increased in volume. He might just climax just from the sounds and imaginings. Leave it to them to indulge in early morning sex. Balthier laughed to himself. He wondered when he would be able to convince them to join in their pleasure. He had seen the spark of interest in their eyes but they were teases. The maybes and maybe-nots mixed in the air between the three of them. To hell with it! Basch and Vaan were out, so he was alone in the room. Balthier shimmied out of his sleeping trousers and palmed his erection. Licking his lips, he timed his stroking hand to the squeaks of the others' bed.

Oh, how Balthier wanted.

Desired.

000

Penelo bit her bottom lip and her slim thighs rubbed together. The sounds coming from Harry and Fran's room were unmistakable. She was glad that Ashe had left at sunrise into the city. And she wished that she had gone into Lowtown right after her. The dancer knew that the pirates they were traveling with were sensual people, but really now. Finally it became too much for her.

Slender fingers crept up her bare thigh and underneath her sheer, white nightgown.

000

Fran flopped down by Harry's side, his softening shaft sliding out of her. She stared at his glistening, heaving body, her crimson eyes full of love. "Alright, my Harry?" she asked. She smiled when he hummed, tugging her against him. She nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck and shoulder. His clever fingers traced lazy patterns across her milk and cocoa skin.

"Fran?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think we should stop saying 'no' to Balthier?" Harry wondered.

"Would it bother you if I said yes?"

"Not particularly." He grinned tiredly at her. "Then maybe I'd get some rest." He chuckled at the playful hit against his chest.

"Penelo as well."

Harry coughed. "What?" he croaked.

"She desires you."

"She's a child," Harry whispered urgently.

Fran shrugged. "Then we shall wait for her," she said blithely.

"We will, Fran? Wicked female," the wizard said, his lips moist and soft against her shoulder. He trailed them down to her collarbone. "The dynamics would be interesting. Balthier will be pleased, of that there is not doubt. However, Vaan might object to us taking his girl, hmm."

"Would it please you?" the Viera asked. "Drawn to you, desire you, we cannot help ourselves. So helpless against your charisma. Besides which, the boy pants after the princess like a dog."

"I thought Balthier was the leading man." He nipped her shoulder. "As for Vaan: he's a teenage boy. He'll pant after anything with two legs, a vagina, and a pair of breasts. Sleep now, my Fran. I'll think about it."

"You'll say yes."

"I said I'll think about it."

"Thirty gil."

"You're on."

000

Basch Fon Ronsenburg blushed a bright red when he stepped into the room. He stared at the cum splattered hand of the sky-pirate and then at the smug face of said pirate. Heat boiled beneath his skin. Balthier smirked at him and tilted his head like a curious bird, his hand still gripping his now softening member. His body glistened with sweat and the pearls of his seed decorated his stomach and chest. The swordsman licked dried lips, stuttered out an excuse/apology, and zoomed out the door again.

Balthier's slightly mocking eyes haunted him for the rest of the day as Basch hovered in the shadows of Lowtown.

000

Harry brushed his fingers against the shrunken wizard-chest that hung under his shirt on a thick chain. Strapped across his back was his Pole, easily drawn. Standing beside him was Fran, checking the tautness of her bow string. The bustle of Nalbina Fortress clanged and sounded from beyond the gates. Their group was standing near the Chocobos, going over their supplies. The wizard eyed them. The princess boldly stared back until he raised an eyebrow and she jerked her gaze away. How interesting. Apparently the events on the sacred mountain of Bur-Omisace were still on her mind.

The dreams of humes...

The brunet shook his head and glanced over at Vaan and Penelo. He smirked at the thorough scolding that the boy looked to be receiving from the small dancer girl. Those two were like a comedy show at times. It was part amusing, part annoying. Still, he appreciated the way they seemed to somewhat lighten the mood in the group. Of course he wasn't very serious either, save for a couple of blow-ups or hissed orders during a battle. Balthier and Basch apparently were playing the 'look at me, look at you' game with the swordsman trying to avoid eye contact while their gun-wielder was trying to lock gazes with him. Harry sighed and looked north.

The Mosphoran Highwaste loomed in the distance.

000

PART THREE: _Dancers Whirling Past_

The scent of war hovered beneath Harry's nose. He could taste it upon his tongue. Even here in the Hunter's Camp on the Phon Coast, tension seized up his muscles. No amount of soothing words or gestures from Fran could calm him. The wizard felt like he was standing upon the edge of a knife. One wrong move and he would lose everything in this mad scheme of the princess' doing. The hunger for power in the name of revenge roiled beneath her smooth skin.

Ashelia was a puppet for someone out there as was the Imperial War Prince, rather Emperor Vayne now. Perhaps this could have all been avoided if the stupid girl hadn't married the prince of Nabradia but the Archadian prince instead. Marriage in exchange for the Dusk Shard, Harry supposed. Spoiled girl, she had a duty to her people but instead she made a love-match with another descendant of Raithwall. Even now she dismissed the two young Dalmascans by her side as children. Were they not of her people? Selfish child. Ashe was so hell-bent on the destruction of the Empire by using the stones. The Nethicite's lure was strong, too strong. She pushes them on into the heart of the empire that she so despises in her quest for the Nethicite.

There was weakness there, this hunger for power. A hume weakness that Harry abhorred for it was something he did not have nor did he want. Power was power; twisting those with it. Look at the wizards of his old world: magic at their fingertips and they stagnated because of their seemingly endless power. Weak little sheep. At least in the Unspeakable, Harry had to think beyond the box, beyond his comfort zone. But there was no use dwelling on the life he left behind. He was here on Ivalice, where life was in a constant tug of war. Harry smiled sardonically at the thought of how he thrived in such an environment, even when he had been a glossair engine workshop owner. There were discoveries to be made still even in that line of work. The engineer in him itched to get a hold of the manufactured, Nethicite -based sky-stones that could fly through Jagd.

Perhaps Harry would raid Doctor Cid's lab during this little excursion into Archades…

000

Reddas was an odd sort of man, in Harry's mind. He wore hot pink breeches for Merlin's sake. Pink. Breeches. The wizard averted his gaze away from the pirate's pink-clad thighs, catching the amused look on his life partner's face. But then his eyes were drawn to Reddas' side-burns and the circle of white hair on the man's mostly bald scalp. Yes, he was weird even by Harry's standards. Though his voice was a soothing rumble. Harry was trying to pay attention but he was feeling distracted as obvious by his wandering concentration. And then Balthier threw a sky-stone at his head. It was only the brunet's finely tuned reflexes that prevented him from getting brained by a shiny rock. He caught it and stared at the gleaming blue stone, twisting it in his fingers and holding it up to the sunlight pouring in from the windows of Reddas' Manse.

"Will it fit in our engine?" Balthier asked, snapping his fingers.

"Patience," Harry said. He hissed. "Manufacted Nethicite -based sky-stone is a dangerous thing. Do you know how it's powered even in Jagd?"

"Oh? You have an idea of how it works?" Reddas asked, his eyes brightening.

The wizard-mage shrugged. "During our escape from the labs at Draklor, I managed to nab a few of Bunansa's reports that specifically pertained to the sky-stones they were producing." He sensed his captain tense but he continued. "From what little I managed to glean in such a short time is this: it absorbs Mist like Neithcite, yes. The absorption rate, however, is so accelerated that it can be powered up in a very short amount of time. Take it into Jagd, where Mist had reversed the very earth's make-up to the detriment of using normal sky-stone? It'll light up so fast that I'll have to recalibrate the glossair engines to prevent them from exploding. It is the Mist-heavy atmosphere of the Jagd itself that powers these Manufacted Nethicite sky-stones. I can't just stick it in. Yes, the Strahl's engines use sky-stone that is Archadian in design but this is a new form of sky-stone. She's a delicate girl, the Strahl." Harry shook the stone at Reddas. "I'll not damage her through ignorance. She's taken enough of a beating from when the Leviathan went to hell in a show of exploding, deifacted Nethicite. Nono's finally managed to fix her."

"And we must still do inspections," Fran interjected as Harry ran out of steam. "Nor can we just hurry off to Ridorana without thorough thought. To rush would be madness."

"Besides," the wizard said, taking back the lead. "Vaan needs a bit more brushing up in his Magicks before he can tackle the Pharos at the Cataract. His healing is weak."

"Hey!" Vaan shrunk away from the glares thrown at him. "Fine…"

Reddas leaned back into his chair and stroked his goatee. "You speak the truth, Hadrian the Viridian. Furthermore, you are the chief engineer for the Strahl; we would do well to heed your words about the Nethicite sky-stone." His black eyes steadily gazed at the master of Magicks

"Indeed, I have no wish for my girl to be completely destroyed by it," Balthier said. "And we could do with a rest after the events at Giruvegan." Despite his blithe tone, the younger sky-pirate still looked a little ill from their excursion into the ancient city on the false lead laid down by his estranged father.

"But we must-" Ashe started only to fall silent under the brunet pirate's green stare.

"We must rest or else we will all die from carelessness induced by exhaustion," Harry snapped. "Fran, with me please. Pardon us, Reddas, I must see to the engines of the Strahl." He bowed to the older sky-pirate and whirled around on his heel to stride out. The Viera was close behind him.

"Hmm." Balthier eyed the slightly fuming princess. "My engineer's word is law when it comes to the inner workings of my ship," he said in response to her bristling. "I will not argue. Anyway, I too would like a bit of rest before we hurry off to the next part of our quest. Do try to behave yourselves, you lot. Reddas, I will send word when Hadrian is done with his work." The blond pirate bowed much like his compatriot and sauntered out to exit the manse.

Reddas smiled to himself despite the subtle scolding Harry had given him during his diatribe.

_**00000**_

**END**

Dun, dun, duuun! We're nearing the end of the game! As you've noticed, I've skipped over several large parts of the game because… actually I don't really know the reason other than the fact that I did it for my own amusement.

See y'all later in the next House of Mages, whenever that is…


End file.
